League o' Justice
by Creedog VanDrey
Summary: Ollie and his team of supers engage themselves on the world's most dangerous, nefarious, if at times amusing missions.
1. Nanny

Nanny  
by Creedog VanDrey

Category: _Smallville  
_Genre: Humor, Action/Adventure  
Rating: K+  
Language: English  
Summery: The League of Justice tries to uncover a 33.1 project in Florida.  
Spoilers: "Justice"

A/N: This is just a brief, humorous diversion from _Archangel Investigations_. It's a "Justice" spin-off, taking place a few years in the future.

* * *

Nanny 

"This is Watchtower. Come in, Impulse."

Chloe Sullivan, codename "Watchtower," studied the displays of the half a dozen monitors in front of her, a few showing maps, others live infrared satellite feeds, and another biometric data windows. Wearing just a Met U sweatshirt and shorts, and sitting in a swivel chair inside Oliver Queen's expansive Q-Jet. Illuminated by the glow of her computer console, which she'd nicknamed "Tiffany", she listened for a response. It came quickly.

"This is Impulse, and I am always ready to come in for you, oh most stunning Watchtower."

"What's your status?" she replied professionally.

"A little more chipper now that I got you on the line."

"Impulse," she replied sternly.

"My status is 'bored.' I've unplugged every camera in this joint. And I've photographed every square inch. I've stolen and made copies of every important-looking document I could get my hands on. There weren't enough unoccupied copy rooms, so I made a side trip to Kinko's… in Milwaukee. I also mixed up all the documents in all the file cabinets, painted smiley faces over all the warning labels, set all the thermostats to 62.5 degrees, then reset the pass codes on all the security consoles... to 6942, and, yeah, I stole all the pens from that snooty receptionist and replaced them with green and dried-up red ones. Then, in the next thirty seconds…"

"Point taken. And you're checking for guards?"

"Eight times since we started talking. You pause _forever_ between sentences. How many times do I have to tell you? I'm the fastest _hombre_ alive."

Her response was almost melodic. "One day, Bart, when you're a little older," she said in a motherly tone, "you'll understand why you should never say that to a girl. Watchtower out."

Chloe grinned, imagining the protests Bart would have given her had she kept the feed alive. She reached up and tapped a few buttons on one of the monitors, disabling a button with a lightning bolt and enabling button with a fish icon. She again stated, "This is Watchtower. Come in, Aquaman. What's your status?"

"I'm in the locker room," A.C.'s voice replied, in a rather bragging tone, even for him.

Sighing, she replied, "I can see that. Dare I ask why?"

"Just hydrating myself. Ask me what I'm wearing."

"No thanks. You know your job?"

"Looking damn good in a Speedo?"

"I'm gonna pretend I didn't hear that."

A.C. listed off, "Knock out guards as I see fit. Grab anything incriminating but waterproof and make off with it into the beautiful Atlantic Ocean located a convenient five hundred yards away from the east exit."

"Good. Anything else?"

"Sorry about the joke. I totally don't need the Speedo."

"Watchtower out," Chloe replied, rolling her eyes. She enabled the arrow button. "Green Arrow, come in. What's your status?"

"I'm feeling kind of pumped. Thanks for asking."

"Map says you with—surprise, surprise—Black Canary." Chloe tapped the screen again, enabling a button with a black bird. "Watchtower to Black Canary."

A feminine voice answered in a highly casual tone, "Hey, Sweetie, Ollie and I just met the cutest guy with the shiniest gun. We were gonna ask him out to drinks until Ollie hit him with a blunt arrow."

Oliver jumped in. "We agreed to only ask out _couples_ of enemy guards. But, I must admit, you have impeccable taste. When he comes to, perhaps we'll ask him if he has a lady friend."

Chloe's head fell to the desk in aggravation, "It's like managing a league of unusually aware toddlers. What're you doing?"

"You know Dinah and I don't kiss and tell," Oliver replied.

"I'm gonna count to three," Chloe said dryly.

"Check on Cyborg," Dinah answered seriously, "once he's disabled the door locks, we think we've found some holding chambers."

"Beautiful. Watchtower out." She tapped the screen, enabling a silver gear. "Watchtower to Cyborg. What's your status?"

"This is Cyborg. I am having a very vigorous interface with the central server."

"You know, I really tired of the double entendres."

Victor paused before chuckling. "I didn't intend for that to be ambiguous. You got something in particular on your mind? I think it might be time for Watchtower to get a boyfriend."

"Funny, Vic. How's the insertion going?"

"Oh, she'll open her legs eventually."

"You're telling me that wasn't intentional?"

"Well, now you've got _my_ mind on something." His tone quickly changed, "Hey, I'm in. Thirty seconds or less."

Chloe teased over the com, "You and Bart. All about speed."

"Now that was just uncalled for."

"My apologies. Watchtower out." She disabled Vic's button and turned on the last remaining button, emblazoned with an eagle, "Watchtower to Boy Scout. What's your status?"

"Waiting for the alarms to go offline. Then I'm one flick of the finger from being inside." He paused and coyly commented, "That probably came out wrong."

Chloe sat dumbfounded. " Clark, did you just…?"

"What, I can't be the only Leaguer who can't talk dirty?"

"Well, you do show a deficiency in that area… And, Clark, these are mutable lines. How did you… _Clark_"

"I'm bored, Chloe. By the way, I thought my new code name was 'Eagle Scout' now that I learned to fly."

"Sorry, Cub Scout. My mistake."

EXPOSITION: After collecting all the Zoners, Clark began studying at the Fortress. He would be gone for days, sometimes weeks at a time, depending on the intensity of the lesson. Chloe kept investigating 33.1. If she needed superhuman assistance and Clark was indisposed, Oliver gladly loaned out his men (Bart was especially eager to help, as well as convenient to send off) in exchange for her research. After two years of study, Jor-El was sufficiently satisfied with Clark's progress. Chloe finished college a few months afterwards, and Oliver extended the invitation to work for him with constantly-renamed League of Justice. So, Chloe took a sabbatical from work to "explore the world." Perry White extended her a standing job offer. She tried, with every place she visited, to send a story about the locale, or sometimes, even what was discovered at the plant, under a penname, of course.

Her computers beeped as she saw that the formerly red lines running around the maps of the facility were now green. She pressed a shield button and all the buttons enabled. "This is Watchtower to League of Justice. Cyborg has compromised all barriers."

Bart cut in with a chuckle, "Hope no one gets pregnant."

"Enough," Chloe snapped, "Eagle Scout, Green Arrow, Black Canary, you're all outside possible test subject rooms." She watched her digital map, showing the blue, green, and ebony-colored dots entering rooms with stationary heat signatures. Victor's silver dot moved swiftly toward one of the rooms.

Victor's voice came over the com, "I'm with Green Arrow and Black Canary. As soon as I jack in, I'll pull up medical data."

Dinah exclaimed, "My God. It's a five-year-old boy."

Victor responded, "Well, then we've got the wrong file. This is for a fifty-two-year-old man."

Chloe's brow furrowed, "Impulse?"

"Not my fault, i_señorita__/i_. I only mess with hard copy. Don't got the time or patience to deal with computer files."

Victor spoke, "I'm linking. You getting this, Watchtower?"

"Every one and zero." After tapping a bit on the keyboard, Chloe commented, "He has a condition that they've labeled 'antisenescence.' The rest is all medical jargon. Stuff about 'telomeres… cellular apoptosis…' something called 'PCD'… I think it's Google time."

"Eagle Scout to Watchtower. I've got another subject in here."

Chloe quickly hacked the file, no doubt aided by Victor. "Yeah, I got it. 'Resistance to MODS and MOF.' Something about 'sustained infantile stem cell production…' Organ regeneration," she concluded.

Bart came on the line. "Hey, doesn't Lex already have meta health powers?"

"Yeah," Chloe answered, "healing factor." She listed off, "Near-complete immunity to disease. Toxin resistance at least three times that of a normal human. Constant high white blood cell count…"

Oliver jumped in, "Huh, you think Lex's is trying to turn that guy into an unkillable soldier?"

Chloe replied, "The guy's five-eight and forty pound overweight. According to this medical file, he's not aging well." Chloe let that sink in before conjecturing, "Guys, this is all conjecture, but I don't think Lex care about the man. With organ regeneration powers, Lex could be trying to make him immortal."

"That does sound like Lex," Oliver commented venomously.

Chloe asked, "Hey, Green Arrow, how's your captive?"

Dinah answered for him, "The child? He's unconscious and not responding. He's got a dozen needles in him that I can't get out. I think they're _barbed_."

Chloe's face pursed, "That doesn't make sense. Lex may be nefarious and immoral when it comes to getting what he wants, but he's not go-out-of-his-way sadistic."

"Unless the guy pissed him off," Oliver commented. Chloe didn't argue.

Victor chimed in, "Hey, I got something here. About your kid, Green Bean, he's part of what Lex is calling the… _ponz_ _dee__ lee-on_ project. Watchtower, what language is this?"

"One sec." Chloe tapped away on an internet browser screen. "Ponce de León. He was a Spanish explorer. Visited Cuba and Florida in the early 1500s."

Oliver prompted, "This area?"

"Quite possibly. They didn't exactly have accurate maps back then."

Suddenly, alarm bells echoed over the mics and red outlines blinked across Chloe's facility map. Victor answered the unasked question, "Damn! There was a hidden failsafe. It's gonna shut down the whole place!"

"Eagle Scout, can you bust everyone out?"

"I can bust the team out, but I can't get our subjects out. This guy's wired in pretty tight."

"That's unacceptable!" Oliver cried, "We can't leave them!"

Victor responded, "I can redirect the signal. The doors'll stay open, but it'll short out the electric system like a faulty circuit breaker."

"This kid may be on life support!" Dinah declared.

"Well, then, for those of us who _aren't_ unbreakable, I'd get the hell out of the way. I'll reroute excess to the lighting. Prepare for glass shards."

From Chloe's point of view, the event was anticlimactic. Red splotches temporarily stained the infrared map. She realized that from inside, there would have been loud explosions, the crackling of glass, and a blinding flash in every room as the lighting blew. After checking the biometric data, which showed hightened heart rates, but no critical damage, she called into the headset. "This is Watchtower to League of Justice. Roll call."

At first there was no answer, then a childish voice, "Where's my mommy?" As much of a relief it was to know that the kid was awake, there was still no answer from the team.

Another childish voice, this one female, stated, "Hey, this old guy's sleeping."

Chloe's brow furrowed when her computer beeped. She clicked a blinking icon on her task bar which brought up a search page which matched several of the keywords from her query on the young victim's file. It was an article about the genetics of aging. Her heart dropped.

"Victor, are you there?"

"There's a cord stickin' outta my arm," came a small boy's voice.

"That's normal. Do you happen to know what you did to the electricity?"

He replied mechanically, "Sure, I rerouted all energy to the lighting wire, minus the average energy that was being routed to all non-lighting. It kept the medical devices in working order, but delayed the security system."

"Wow."

"I know. I'm smart like that. I thunked it up all by myself," Victor's childish voice responded insincerely.

"Do me a favor, guys, nobody move."

"You can't make me," came another childish voice. _Bart_ was Chloe's only thought.

The blond woman jumped out of her seat and removed her headset. She pressed a few buttons to lock her computer and proceeded to race to her room, where she peeled off her casual clothing. After a deliberate search through the closet, she slipped on a white button-up blouse and a modest charcoal grey skirt. She searched her drawers with one hand and she arranged her shoulder-length blond hair into a bun with the other. Grabbing a pair of dress flats, she moved to the next door. Finding it locked, she held down on the pound and 4 keys of the keypad, causing the door to unlock. Her secret emergency override was a good foresight. She grabbed a pair of pantyhose from Dinah's drawer, glad that her friend's usual lack of organization wasn't a hinder today.

As she passed her work station again, she overheard a child's voice saying, "Yay! I'm naked!" She was not surprised to find the feed was coming from A.C.'s mic.

Chloe froze, wondering how she expected to smuggle six possibly naked, super-powered children out of a top-secret facility.

- - -

Chloe had no problems getting into the facility. Between her natural lock-picking talents and Oliver's cadre of gadgets, there was no door that didn't open to her skillful hands. Locating her teammates was no chore either. Oliver had insisted on shoulder implants for everyone on the team, so all it took was a small handheld console for Chloe to locate the rooms where her teammates were. Despite the power failure, a search had not been issued. Rather, a cadre of technicians were studying readouts in the electrical room, which Chloe easily slipped past.

In one room, she found a blond, short-haired boy; a blond, long-haired girl: and an African-American boy. Since her teammates were not approximately five years old, the majority of their costumes had fallen off them. They were clad in nothing but their respective, too-large sleeveless tops and socks in the boys' cases. From her duffel bag, she exchanged the costume pieces littering the floor for three sweatshirts.

"Hi, Chloe," the young Dinah exclaimed as Chloe peeled off her black tank top and replaced it with a black Gotham Knights sweatshirt. "Wha'cha doing?"

"It's part of the plan, Honey."

"Hey!" the young Ollie exclaimed, "_I_ make up the plans." Youth didn't change some things.

"Well," Chloe said, removing Ollie's emerald vest, "I've got an escape plan and I need your cooperation."

"Hey, you're a _girl_! You're not allowed to see me naked!"

As she stuffed him into a green University of Star City sweatshirt, she replied, "Well, luckily I'm a grownup and you're not anymore."

"But _Dinah_ is in the room."

"Trust me, under normal circumstances, she wouldn't care."

As Chloe turned around, Dinah clung to her. Chloe hugged back, "Hey, hey, I know you're scared. I'll get us out of here."

Dinah just pointed to the table, where in place of what should have been a young boy was a middle-aged man, who was either comatose or dead. Chloe took note of the fright apparent on Dinah's face. Though it tugged on her heartstrings, Chloe forced herself to sit Dinah on the ground. She covered her ears and demanded that the boys do the same, just in time for Dinah to release an ear-piercing scream that destroyed a mechanical panel. Luckily, the outburst was short-lived.

Victor gladly traded his silver vest for a grey Seattle Seahawks sweatshirt.

With Dinah in her arms and Victor's tight (but not _too_ tight) grip around her other hand, Chloe found Clark in the adjacent room, climbing the walls. Literally. There were a dozen indentions in the concrete where he'd dug his fingers in. He'd reached the ceiling.

"Clark Jerome Kent, I'm going to count to three and I want you to come down," Chloe declared, in a voice strangely reminiscent of her father's.

Clark didn't need numbers; he gaily leapt from the ceiling, landing bottom-first on a large electronic console, which promptly crumpled around him like a soda can.

When he didn't emerge after a few moments, Chloe with mild concern, called to him, " Clark, you okay?"

Clark finally emerged from a vent after the cover went flying into the far wall. Clark's blue jacket, which was already in tatters, fell completely off as the hood became tangled with a mangled piece of metal. Chloe nonchalantly covered Dinah's eyes, and twisted her arm to reach into her duffel to throw Clark his azure Metropolis University football jersey.

" Clark, have you seen Bart?"

"Yeah, he's runned by the door like a bazillion times."

Chloe turned around and beckoned, "Bart!"

A small blond-haired boy stopped in the doorway, wearing Bart's distinctive jacket. While Oliver has specially designed the fabric to survive air resistance, the fabric was no match for being dragged across the floor; the cuffs of the sleeves and several inches up from the hem had worn away. As she set Dinah down facing away from the door, she peeled of Bart's ruined jacket and stuffed him into a scarlet and grey Ohio State track sweatshirt.

"Okay, guys, let's get to the locker room." Bart immediately zipped off, leaving a trail of singed red threads. Chloe immediately turned to Clark and declared, "Don't you _even_ think about it, young man." Clark just looked at the ground guiltily, so Chloe ruffled his hair and apologized.

A young A.C. was found in the locker room, buck naked, and standing underneath a blasting showerhead, reaching up toward the handle that was too high for him to reach. Bart was already inside, superspeeding across the ledges of the benches and leaping from one to another, the sleeves and hem of his sweatshirt already tattered. Chloe, sympathetic to A.C.'s plight, removed her heels and stepped into the shower area to turn off the shower. Upon reaching under the water, she screeched, "Geez Louise, that water is frigid." Upon toweling off and convincing the reluctant A.C. to put on an orange-and-green University of Miami sweatshirt, she called to Bart, who appeared, instantaneous at her feet.

"Okay, guys, let's head out. And for the record, I did _not_ scream 'Geez Louise.'"

Though Oliver and Dinah had been teaching Chloe basic martial arts, she silently prayed that she wouldn't run into any guards. After all, she was heavy-laden with six young children with special abilities. Unfortunately, by avoiding the guarded doors, she was forced to go out through the public lobby. Taking a breath, she confidently and hurriedly shoved open the door to the front lobby. While the guard at the front entrance didn't see her exit the doorway labeled "Restricted Access," she must have appeared to come out of nowhere, or possibly where she shouldn't have been.

Upon being questioned, she sashayed her hair and stated casually, "Hi, I'm Karen Lance, with Queen Elementary. Thank you so much for letting us use your restroom facilities. Seems like a few of our more rambunctious students thought it'd be a fun idea to use your fountain as a pool."

The guard, looking unconvinced, turned his head to the window, as if to check and see if there really was a fountain. There was. Chloe noted it on her way in. He responded, "The wall on that fountain is four feet tall. How did they manage to get in?"

"Oh, these six can get into _anything_," she replied, not dishonestly.

The guard surveyed her brood. "Six?"

Chloe looked down. There were three kids at her feet: the messy black hair of Clark was unmistakable; Victor's head, too, was stood out; and Ollie's spiky blond hair, too, was notable. With Dinah in her arms, that only left two runaways: Bart and A.C. Luckily, she quickly spotted A.C. in the waiting area, standing on a chair, talking to a fish tank. She hoped no one noted that all the fish had gathered round where A.C. was talking, as if with rapt attention.

Chloe looked down, "Guys, where's Bart?"

"He goed to the Jet," Clark answered.

"The jet?" the guard replied, his suspicion not waned.

"My minivan. It's vaguely shaped like a jet. Without wings and a tail. Kids and their imaginations."

The guard didn't stop her as she moved toward the door, corralling A.C. on her way, apparently in pursuit of one of her charges.

She passed by a receptionist, who gave her a displease sneer with a glance toward her legs. It was then that Chloe realized that she'd swiped a pair of Dinah's fishnet stockings. She quickly replied to the woman, "They were a gag gift. It's laundry day. They're five-year-olds. It's not like they're gonna notice."

The receptionist just turned to her pen holder, searching through it with displeasure.

- - -

From the cargo door of the Q-Jet, Chloe watched the descending red streak in the sky and smiled to herself. She was soon approached by a dark-skinned, thirty-ish man in a rather unusual ensemble: indigo-blue slacks, a navy blue Middleton PD tee-shirt, bright red suspenders, a powder blue rain jacket, and stark white Keds.

"J'onn," she said amicably, "I'm so glad you're here." She didn't mention that his sense of fashion.

"It was my pleasure. What have you done with our rejuvenated paladins?"

They walked through the plane together. "Well, A.C. hopped into the blue Atlantic. I put him in GPS-enhanced swimsuit, but he ditched that about a hundred yards out to sea. Luckily we've still got his shoulder implant. Tiffany'll tell us if anything goes wrong with his biometrics."

"And the others?"

Chloe pointed at a door with a window. "Bart's track room. I told him it was a merry-go-round. Turns out all it takes to keep him happy is apple juice. He's gone through about two gallons so far. I bet him a cookie he could slap himself in the butt. He didn't seem to realize that I'd already given him a family-size bag of animal crackers."

"Speaking of which…" J'onn hinted.

"Check the cupboard," Chloe smirked.

J'onn was there and back in a flash of red, holding a bag of Chocos, chocolate wafer cookies with creamy white centers.

"Did that really require you to jet?"

"You speak so plainly about what is very possibly Earth's greatest invention."

"I'm not disagreeing with you. I love the things myself." She reached for one and J'onn flinched away, but apologized and offered her a cookie.

"Selfish much?"

"It _was_ my payment."

"I know, I know. But I've got to envy your Martian biology. I could never eat these things like you do and stay a size 4." She rubbed her hips self-consciously.

"Chloe, I assure you that you're very beautiful," J'onn said uncomfortably.

"I appreciate the compliment, but seeing that your ideal woman is green-skinned, heavy-browed, and with a head shaped like a pickaxe, I'm afraid I can't take that at face value." Before J'onn could respond, she pulled open a heavy metal door to what Oliver liked to call the "Tandrum Room." Clark rarely actually had tantrums which would require the room, but it was useful for him to practice using his powers. The cubicle-sized room was made of a foot of pure titanium, which could in no way contain Clark, but was useful when he was testing his control over his strength or heat vision.

Now it was being used as Clark's playpen. He sat on the floor with a large pile of metal piping at his feet. "I got the idea from Martha Kent," explained. "Turns out the stuff is his own personal brand of Play-Doh."

"I'm making Miss Chloe a zoo!" Clark exclaimed, and even J'onn had to smile.

"I know," Chloe told Clark, leaning down and ruffling his hair, "and I really like it so far." Turning back to J'onn, she commented, "I figured a zoo would keep him occupied for the longest amount of time."

"I'm making an elephant!" He showed off what definitely resembled something like a metal elephant.

"It's great! I'll be back soon," Chloe answered brightly. As they exited, Chloe noted, "I feel kind of like a day care worker."

"It's kind of what you are for the time being."

They moved to Oliver's archery range, where they found Ollie standing on the platform, shooting a toy bow and arrow set. The target before him had three suction-cup arrow landing dead center of the face, the chest, and the groin of a man's silhouette. Chloe and J'onn merely exchanged amused glances.

In the residential area of the jet, they peeked into Dinah's room, where the young girl was playing with a number of brand-new dolls, courtesy of Oliver's rather large credit limit. For her room, Ollie had installed special vibration-resistant walls that allowed Dinah to blow off steam—verbally—every once in a while, without causing considerable damage. They were also completely sound-proof up to 200 decibels, capable of muting a jet plane engine. Chloe had the suspicion it was good for dampening more than Dinah's Canary Cry.

Finally, they moved to Victor's room, where he was acting out martial arts on the floor in front on a television set, his arm cord jacked into a video game console. Completely immersed in the game, he didn't even see Chloe and J'onn, who was still munching on Chocos, as they walked by. "You know," Chloe commented, "they say letting your kid play too many violent video games might cause aggressive behavior. They might even become vigilantes."

J'onn's thick brow just furrowed with confusion.

"Never mind." J'onn was still learning the finer points of Earth humor.

The pair moved to Chloe's workstation. She pressed several buttons at the console. After a few moments of a dial tone, a man appeared on screen. He was tall and handsome, with thick black hair and dressed in a three-piece suit, sitting in an executive-looking office in front of a large window overlooking a cityscape.

"Chloe, always a vision, what can I do for you?" the man asked charismatically.

"Hello, Bruce, how goes business?"

"Good as usual. But surely you didn't call me to trade stock tips."

"Not unless you got some. But you're right. We have a situation that could you your assistance."

Bruce grinned, "What have your boys gotten themselves into?"

"Well, for one, another 33.1 facility. It looks like Lex might be in the business of eternal life."

He whistled. "And you're calling me from St. Augustine, Florida. There's no way _that_'s a coincidence."

"What do you mean?"

"Official hometown of the fabled Fountain of Youth. Ever hear of the explorer Ponce de León?"

Chloe's jaw dropped in realization. "It was the name of the project. So this Ponce de León guy was the one that went after the Fountain of Youth? Apparently none of us are history buffs. Lex always was the poetic one."

Bruce chuckled, "You're not wrong. Though, I get the impression his dad's worse." Chloe just nodded in agreement. "So, what's the situation?" he prompted.

"Let me show you something." She called out, though not nearly loud enough to be heard outside the room, "Clark, Sweetie, I'd like you to talk to somebody."

"You call Clark 'Sweetie' now? Didn't realize you two were…"

Clark zipped into the room and jumped into Chloe lap, using his flight to soften the fall.

Bruce finished his sentence with, "…parents. Guess that answers the questions about Kryptonian fertility and gestation period we've all been wondering about. And ability to seduce Earth women," he tacked on.

"Funny, Bruce, just 'cause you can't do it."

"I'll have you know—"

"I was talking about to me."

Bruce could only shrug in admittance.

Chloe, displaying Clark, declared, "Bruce, I'll like you to meet Clark Kent, age 5."

Bruce stared for a moment. "Yeah, I'll get Lucius on the phone."

The Wayne Enterprises CEO appeared on the line and was happy to work on a solution, especially after Chloe told him he'd be getting a large medical file and blood samples, hand-delivered by a Martian. "It's more than I usually have to work with," he quipped.

"Hey, don't forget who pays your paycheck."

"Yeah, the board of directors. You don't have that much power, Mr. Wayne."

Bruce turned to Chloe, "We'll be down as soon as we can. Try not to adopt any more while we're gone. Speaking of which, how many tykes do you have?"

"This one alone's a handful. I've got half a dozen just like him."

- - -

Chloe suspected from the growing crankiness of her teammates that it was nap time. Bart was adamant against it. Of course, after Chloe feigned a grab and Bart made a few hundred circles around his room, he collapsed onto his bed. They'd run out of apple juice and animal crackers, and Bart eventually succumbed to a sugar low. He was snoring within seconds.

Oliver's superiority complex, too, prevented him from taking orders. But Chloe, simply by being older, easily outsmarted him. "You're right. I forbid you to sleep. Everyone knows people shoot arrows when they're well-rested, and could use a little weakness from you when I stage my takeover."

Oliver was napping within five minutes.

Dinah was asleep on her bed when J'onn and Chloe found her. Chloe threw a blanket over her.

Victor agreed to nap when told it was the most efficient way to "recharge."

A.C. had worn himself out swimming to Australia, and was picked up off the ocean floor by J'onn somewhere off the coast of Indonesia. He slept soundly in his water bed.

Clark put up a short fit, but compared to some of his more hard-headed friends, was an easy win. Chloe figured that Martha had knocked enough discipline in him.

Thirty minutes into nap time, Bruce and Lucius appeared at their doorstep, six syringes ready.

"Sorry for the delay. Your friend Clark has most unusual DNA," Lucius explained.

Chloe didn't mention she rather impressed with their turnaround time.

They injected Dinah first. She screamed. Luckily, the three of them wore special Queen Industries-designed earplugs. Chloe never asked why it was so necessarily that Oliver need be in the direct path of Dinah's call. She went straight back to sleep.

"The drugs will make them drowsy," Lucius explained.

Victor put up no fight, simply showed them a port to inject the fluid which would best circulate through his artificial circulatory system.

Oliver proclaimed he hated shots, but accepted it when it told him it'd make him taller than Chloe again.

A.C. commented the shot was no worse than the time he was unable to talk his way out of a jellyfish ambush.

Clark presented a unique problem. Bruce causally pulled out a green-gemmed ring and told Chloe was the plan was. She entered the room and roused her dark-haired friend. When she told him he needed a shot, he promptly reminded her that needles got "smushed" against his skin. Her voice caught in the back of her throat, she rubbed his back and told him that they needed to use kryptonite. He tensed up and his eyes widened in fear, bringing tears to Chloe's. Gathering her strength, she told him that it would be a short procedure and that she'd told him tight, but that he couldn't grab back. As Bruce entered the room, Clark writhed in pain. Chloe clutched him desperately tight as he was given the injection. Bruce quickly stuffed his ring into a lead-lined sack, but Clark had already passed out. Chloe checked his heartbeat and breathing before leaving him on the bed, the grimace still apparently on her face. She wiped away the tears that had formed in her eyes.

"That's it. I'm not having kids," she declared.

"That's too bad," Bruce commented, patting her back, "you'd be awesome at it." As they moved to Bart's room, Bruce inquired about the best plan of action.

Chloe merely replied, "Eh, stick 'im before he wakes up." It was good advice. Within an instant of being poked, he had leapt from his bed. He slapped the syringe away, but Lucius had pressed the plunger immediately. Bart's hypersonic circulatory system worked to their advantage. He bounced off a wall and landed on the ground, dead asleep.

- - -

J'onn returned from his reconnaissance mission with bad news. Lex was careful to a fault and had completely cleared out the St. Augustine 33.1 location.

Bruce, using Tiffany under Chloe's anxious eyes, determined that Lex had either destroyed or completely encrypted all files from the site as well.

"Damn," Chloe cursed, "might as well send what we got to Chase." Bruce forwarded their evidence to the investigator in New York.

- - -

Clark, again twenty-three, walked into the kitchen, where he found Chloe, Bruce, Lucius, and J'onn sitting around the table, drinking coffee. He noted that J'onn's coffee was usually white, and he was not so much drinking it so much as using it to dip the last of his Chocos in.

Chloe smiled. "Morning. Somebody's looking their age again. For a minute there, we were afraid your serum wasn't going to work, as long as you slept. Have some coffee. It's hot."

He gave her a look, "Where is everyone? I don't hear them rustling around."

"A.C. swam down to Miami to visit friends," Bruce explained.

Chloe added, "Bart wanted to go to the beach with me. Even offered to pick me up a suit. I declined, so he went to check out the beach scene. All of the beaches, I believe."

Bruce grinned. "He even seemed happier."

"Ollie and Dinah… well, they're…" Chloe trailed off as Clark blushed profusely.

"Perhaps I should recreate the scene," J'onn volunteered. "I was told it was very amusing."

In a streak of red, a man looking exactly like Oliver appeared behind J'onn's now vacant chair. "Listen, Dinah," 'Ollie' said awkwardly, "I just want to apologize for…"

Another streak of red brought Dinah's form to the scene, "…acting like I had cooties? Hey, Tiger, we're exactly ourselves. Well, at least _I_ wasn't. You acted surprisingly similar to yourself."

Red streak. 'Ollie' replied, "Hey, watch it, Missy." He sent a flirty grin to open air. Another red streak, 'Dinah' sent the space beside her an uninterested smirk. Another red streak, 'Ollie' moved forward. Then, a constant red blur highlighted 'Ollie' and 'Dinah' flickering back and forth into existence, seemingly kissing.

Then, all at once, J'onn appeared in his chair again in his human form. He dipped his last Choco cookie in his 'coffee' and bit into it seemingly without a care in the world. Around him, his friends laughed uncontrollably.

Wiping tears from her eyes, Chloe commented, "I doubt we could get _Bart_ to do that self-kissing thing. Or Clark." Her tall ally just stared down at her. "Enough said," she commented. "Oh, do Bart's little 'proportion' spiel."

A red steak produced a Bart look-alike. Leaning on the back of Chloe's chair, he coyly stated, "Hey, Chloelicious, since you saw me naked back there, just wanted to remind you that things stay in proportion."

"Things," Chloe acted back.

"Things," 'Bart' replied before J'onn reappeared in his chair, looking disheartened at the empty Choco bag while his friends struggled for breath.

Clark exhaled hard enough that he messed up his friends' hair and rattled the mugs. "J'onn, we're sorry. You're just a hoot. Remember your last birthday?" They had chosen August 27 for J'onn's birthday, on account that Mars was most visible in the night sky on that date. Last year, Chloe had brilliantly elected to get him a Chocos-and-cream ice cream cake. Still unfamiliar with Earth customs at the time, he lunged face-first into the cake after patiently waiting for the League to finish singing him "Happy Birthday." The pictures were priceless.

- - -

"This is Green Arrow to Watchtower. I need a favor."

"This is Watchtower. What can I do for you, Green Arrow?"

"Set me up with a private line to Black Canary."

"You're all set up," Chloe replied.

Oliver was surprised by Chloe's compliance. Usually, a transparent request like that would warrant Chloe's sarcasm, if not criticism. And it wasn't like she was in the best of moods. The League of Justice was working on the island of Lesbos, Greece. Her witty cohorts had been exchanging wisecracks all day concerning the name alone. And Dinah seemed to be putting no stop to it.

"So…" Oliver said, "now that we have a little privacy…"

"I _thought_ we were on a mission."

"Who's boss around here?"

"Hmm, I'm gonna have to go with Chloe."

Oliver scoffed. "You're hitting me where it hurts, Girl."

"Kinda like last night?"

"That's it. I'm tracking you down."

"You'll have to catch me first."

"Ooh, this is my favorite game."

"Mine, too, Bro," A.C.'s voice interrupted.

"Chloe!" Oliver screamed, "I thought you gave a private line."

"Well, _sorry_," Chloe replied, mock-apologetically, "but there _all these buttons_. Who knows what they all do?"

Oliver sighed. "You know, Watchtower, I give you state-of-the-art computers and this is how you thank me?"

"Look, not that I don't love Tiffany…" Chloe replied.

"Remind me again why you gave your computer a stripper name?" Victor asked.

Chloe grinned superiorly. "For Tiffany _lamps_. You know, Cyborg, considering what _you_ call _your _computer, I wouldn't talk."

Victor didn't say another word.

"I'm telling ya, Chloe," Clark commented, "you should've named her 'Nellie.'"

"Hey, guys, not to interrupt the party," A.C. said with uncharacteristic gravitas, "but I've been doing my rounds in the gorgeous Aegean Sea here. There was this plane. Army, I think. So, I tried to race it."

"This sounded urgent, Aquaman," Oliver said into his mic, "what's the emergency?"

"It's smoking. I think it's gonna crash into this…" He paused for a long time before adding, awestruck, "…island."

Chloe tapped away on her computer. "Aquaman, this is Watchtower. Both your GPS's have shorted out."

"So we lost Flounder?" Bart quipped.

"I heard that."

Chloe jumped in, "No need to worry. I've got your last known location, as well as direction and velocity. I've got your probable location, and… it looks like you're not within thirty miles of an island."

"Well, I wouldn't be surprised if it weren't on any map. It's kind of floating."

"In the water?"

"In the air. It's barely skimming the surface of the sea. And our bogey just landed pretty hard on it. Want me to check it out?"

Oliver replied, "Hold back, Aquaman. If this thing's really an unrecorded, inhabited floating island, I want more than one man on it. Anyone find anything in this facility worth staying for?" He was answered with a chorus of negative responses. "Then that decides it. League of Justice, fall out. Impulse, Eagle Scout, I want you to water-skimming to Aquaman's location. Everyone else, meet up at the Q-Jet. Watchtower, after you relay Aquaman's position, I want you to ready the jet to get us there ASAP. Let's be heroes."

In the middle of the Aegean Sea, there was a red streak over the surface, creating the most imperceptible of wakes. It was followed by a blue streak a few feet above the sea, causing a significantly larger but still minor wake. An enormous wake was created behind it by an oversized silver-and-green jet, approaching a tiny island, floating just above the water's surface. It was covered in a mixture of dense, green foliage, and crystalline white structures, several of them in the style of Greco-Roman landmarks.

* * *

A/N: Anyway, as you can see, I've set myself up for a possible sequel. Any comic-minded fan can probably guess part of the plot. But I'm really debating between that sequel and another light-hearted fic also taking place in the LoJ universe. Also, bear in mind, I'm tirelessly trying to produce my _Archangel Investigation_ episodes. 

(Sonriso) - Wait a second. Where was the Chlark? You _always_ do Chlark, Creedog! How can I lust over Chloe if I can't put myself in Clark's place?

Created Friday, March 23, 2007. Finished Wednesday, March 28, 2007.


	2. Canine

Canine  
by Creedog VanDrey

Category:_Smallville  
_Genre: Humor, Action/Adventure  
Rating: TV-14 V L D  
Language: English  
Summery: Shelby, or Kinopravda, as he likes to be called, narrates the League o' Justice's adventures on a strange floating island in the Aegean Sea.  
Spoilers: "Justice"

* * *

Everything is in tip-top shape on the Moving House. My subjects have just returned from the Outside. I'd be more specific, but this is a special type of house where the outside keeps changing, ergo "The Moving House." 

Perhaps I shall introduce myself. I am Kinopravda, the greatest nature documentarian of our age. Though, perhaps if you have not had the good fortune of being born a Canine, you would be inclined to call me "Shelby." I don't mind; it's a name I associate with the kindest subjects I have gotten a chance to study. You see, this is actually my fifth location of study. The first was my place of birth. It was a nice place and I got along well with my brothers and sisters. Though, it was quickly apparent that I stood out from the rest, intellectually. Being an autodidact, I found my true calling in life to study the larger and reasonably intelligent lifeforms known as Humans.

My second location was the Scary Place of Pointy Objects, where I developed my first impression of the Humans: they were evil creatures who delighted in torturing us higher beings. I escaped after being struck by a Metal Cow, which led me to my third location, which was the Big House of the Groundworkers, who changed my perceptions quickly.

It was there where I was first introduced to Herakles (as I named him; the Humans also name themselves, quite uncreatively, I might add), who would be my most intriguing subject. But I eventually had to leave the Big House. The Alpha Male, Beauregard (whom I affectionately called "Beau"), a groundworker, died. His mate, Dutchess, soon began taking several retreats to place she identified only as "Wichita." I must admit that was unable to discover whether this was a real location or some metaphorical state of spiritual retreat. Herakles stayed with me for awhile, but he too had to go on a retreat, so I was left in the care of Miss E.J. in the House of Smells. I liked it there because there were always crumbs on the floor downstairs, even though the brown water that Humans like to drink tasted horrible. Miss E.J. was a Human female who showed up at the Big House often during my study there. I first figured her to be one of Herakles's mates. Originally, I hypothesized (wrongly it would turn out) that because Herakles wasn't quite a Human, he might be polygamous, which we Canines consider to be part of a more advanced social system. It turns out that Herakles possibly had lost Miss E.J. to another male, a man-pup I named Blinky, named so because of this strange lightning-producing box he carried around with him constantly, like a collar. I never understood why Miss E.J. chose him over Herakles, who was larger and stronger, clearly the signs of an Alpha Male who should have his pick of the females. Herakles, on the other hand, seemed pretty attached to this _other_ bitch, who reminded me of a Chinese Crested Dog. She would never pet me.

For my Human listeners, I think you have a different definition of "bitch," right? You should be appalled.

Anyway, I tried to study Miss E.J. and Blinky's behavior during mating, to figure out why it was that she thought him to be a superior mate, but my presence seemed to make them uncomfortable, and pretty soon, Blinky stopped visiting. I guess Heisenberg was right.

Herakles finally returned, and he and Miss E.J. brought me to the Moving House, where I had a number of very intriguing subjects to study. Perhaps you'd like a tour?

I always like to start the tour with the lair of the Alpha Male, otherwise known as Reynard. I've never understood why Reynard holds this status. True, he is tall, though not any taller than Herakles. And Herakles clearly outmatches him in strength. Reynard's singular talent seems to be launching pointy sticks with this other stick. While I can see the potential value in such a talent, Reynard rarely puts it to use. I've not once seen him fetch the stick.

Perhaps in time, I shall understand their social structure. At this moment, Reynard's personal cave is blocked, so just give me a moment to play with this box on the wall… Ah! There it goes! As you'll see, Reynard is currently asleep with his mate, Madonna. Now, as far as Human females go, she seems attractive enough. The only unattractive quality I kind find about her (besides not being canine) is that sometimes she sounds like a cat whose tail is being stomped on. Times a hundred. Though, I shouldn't be judgmental of Reynard. I went through this Schnauzer phase when I was about four that in retrospect I don't understand at all.

I have strong suspicions that Madonna may have been spayed. You see, she and Reynard seem to mate quite a lot, and I've never seen any indication that she's going to have puppies. But, it appears they've tried again, so let me see if I can detect any change.

Oh, I'm getting too old to jump on beds. Now, let's see if I can get a good sniff in.

"Shelby!" Madonna cries to me, grabbing my muzzle, "Get your snout out of there!"

Well, Miss, I didn't get a good examination in, but I'd say you're not pregnant.

She covers herself up, as if I care. She seems to forget that my species has exposed milk glands. In fact, seeing them would actually aid in my pregnancy diagnosis.

"How'd you get in here?" Reynard asks me, a little tired.

Same way you did: through the door. You think the blinky box would keep me out? Please. Sometimes I wonder how intelligent Humans really are.

Reynald seems pretty cranky, which would contradict the theory that _he_'s the one that's fixed and therefore responsible for Madonna's lack of puppies.

Anyway, nothing going on here; let's move along. My next subject is Asimov. The door to his cave is open, so let's see what he's up to. He's working on the Glowbox, with numerous wires sticking out of his forelegs. I moan and he turns to me and grins. He reaches out his paw and rubs my head. Underneath his skin, his hand feels hard, but he's really good at the rubbing, so I don't complain.

"Hey, Shelbs," he says to me, though I can barely pay attention through the rubbing, "looking for someone to play with?"

In truth, I am, but I know once he was connected to his glowbox, he's hard to drag away. Miss E.J. is the same, though at least she's not_physically_ attached. I myself try to avoid leashes.

I wander off, leaving Asimov to his work or play.

I find that the Big Door to the Outside is open, and I see, briefly, Jack-Boy fooling around. I say briefly because he tends to disappear. After long hours of study, I realized he was running, much like a jackrabbit, hence the name.

I head out. Jack-Boy seems to be the pup of the group. In truth, he's not really a pup; it's clear from his interactions with Miss E.J. that he's been through puberty. Being the most fun-loving of the group, he's an easy target for play. With my fuzzy ball of tastiness in my mouth, I approach him. He quickly grasps the ball and throws it. I start running, but a gush of wind tells me the effort's futile. A second later, he's beside me again, with the ball in his paw. "Looks like you were too slow that time, boy."

I resist the urge to bite him on the hock… or elsewhere. "Elsewhere" might earn me a couple of brownie points with Miss E.J., but I decide it's not worth it. He launches the ball again and I respond by lying down, eyeing him, daring him to make the first move. Jack-Boy's not what you would call patient, so he quickly darts off to retrieve the ball.

Upon returning, he states, "Shelby, I promise to let you play this time."

A likely story. It's not really fair to their species, but I guess I'll have to use my intellect against him.

He winds up and throws the ball, chasing after it immediately, only to return a moment later to find me with the ball already in my mouth, relaxed and waiting. He takes on a rather bulldog-like appearance, his mouth wide open and his tongue nearly hanging out. I'd love to tell him that I grabbed the ball out of his paw before he could throw it, but it's not worth the effort to take the tasty tennis ball out of my mouth. Like he speaks Dog anyway.

Realizing that his primitive brain—okay, that's harsh; Human aren't that far behind Canines, especially when you faction Cows and Felines into the equation—will shut down before he realizes what I've done, I lay the ball on the ground and look up at him expectantly. He snaps out of it and throws the ball hard. So hard that it lands in the nearby pond. I race after it. Jack-Boy stops short of the water, complaining about a lack of a swimsuit. _I_ leap right in, naked as the day I was born. As if it were such an unnatural occurrence. Triton, another of my subjects, does it all the time. In fact, here he is. Let's take a dive underwater to see if…

Yep. He's so predictable.

"Hey, Canine Buddy, what's up? Looking for this?" He pulls the Ball of Infinite Flavorfulness out of the water and throws it across the pond. I go doggy-paddling—what else?—after it. Within a few paws' length of it, a great uprising of water launches further away from shore. I grin and chase it further. I've yet to figure how Triton is capable of this trick, but I don't complain. At least he never steals the ball from me. At least not recently.

I noticed as I zero in on my fuzzy morsel, the water becomes more turbulent. Under the surface of the water, I see him zipping back and forth. I stop for a moment, trying to catch my breath, which Triton is not making easy on me.

But before I know what's happening, I find myself on shore, which Triton hanging over me. "Hey, there, Furry, don't you drown on me. Bro Scout will have my tail."

I simply pant on shore, watching with an inner grin as Jack-Boy covers his eyes, commenting, "Yo, Tom Sawyer, as close as we are, there are parts of you I'm not that comfortable with yet. You don't see me doing my Michael Johnson thing in _my_ birthday suit."

"There was that time Ollie forgot to friction-proof your suit."

I remember that particular occurrence. He was as red as his costume. Former costume. Late costume. Whatever.

I have no interest in taking part in this particular discussion, so I take hold of my ball and stroll back into the Moving House.

Miss E.J. is on her glowbox and Herakles is hovering over her.

Literally. Jack-Boy's a bunny. Triton's a fish. And now my Herakles is a bird. You'd think one of these Humans would evolve into a higher being, like a Dog.

Come to think of it, my subjects teamed up with a wolf-human at one point. I tried to start a conversation, but Wolf is a very distinct dialect, and his was very rusty.

Anyway, I'm getting off-topic. Miss E.J. is shooting Herakles angry looks. He's oblivious, prompting her for more information about something he keeps calling "Intergang." Speaking of oblivious, Miss E.J. is as usual saturating the air with pheromones. Herakles doesn't seem to be responding. Maybe that's where Jack-Boy keeps getting his false positives. Even I knew when to back off that smokin' Border collie down the road of the Big House. What was her name? Annabelle…

"Look, there's nothing wrong with Tiffany," Miss E.J. informs Herakles. "These guys are good at hiding stuff. I'm telling you, a few more missions, and I'll be able to dig further."

I whine at her hindpaws. Frankly, it's a fairly shameless act because it works so well on Humans, but it earns me a head rub, so it's hard to feel ashamed. Miss E.J. is just as good as Asimov, except it doesn't feel like she's hiding rocks under her skins, and…

Dang, she is_really_ good at this. What was I saying?

Herakles, you buffoon, it could be _your_ head she's rubbing. Or, you know, whatever suits your fancy.

I've always considered the Principle of No Interference to be silly, so… _shove_.

Miss E.J. almost falls out of her chair, but it quickly caught by Herakles.

"Thanks, Clark." She turns to me, still in Herakles's arms. "Now what was that for?"

_For the propagation of your species, thank you very much, Missy._

_- - - _

Geez, you'd think we were chasing a cat the way Reynard is flying the Moving House. I take my spot in the co-pilot's seat, which Jack-Boy often steals from me, and watch as we come up on some strange piece of land. I wonder if someone needs a bathroom break. There seems to be plenty of trees…

Oh, great, now _I_ have to go. Those waterfalls don't help.

Jack-Boy and Herakles meet us when we land on the island. I race out before anyone can stop me.

With the cat-like agility, a number of Female Humans emerge from the bushes. My subjects take their aggressive postures so I put myself in a prone position. I learned that my subjects tend to get into dog fights with some pretty nasty enemies, so I tend to lay low when they're itching for a brawl. I really wanted to claim one of the beautiful trees, but it appears that I've claimed this spot right here. For the time being, I don't mind having ownership.

Just as expected, the Females and my subjects start to fight. Little do they know my subjects are very talented. Jack-Boy quickly relieves of their long pointy sticks, but is ironically not quick enough to avoid being kicked into a tree by one of the Females. I laugh to myself as this as Herakles is attacked. The Females clearly did not expect him to be so formidable. I actually feel bad for the vegetation and rocks. Herakles and Asimov are both much harder than both. And these Females don't seem bothered by running into trees, which does hurt, take it from me. Don't ask.

Okay, it involves squirrels, alright? Geez, you think they _weren't_ little demons sent to terrorize the Earth and Dogs especially. I'm just doing patriotic duty!

Okay, never mind, because another bitch has shown up. I crouch lower because she's kind of too close to me for comfort. As I mentioned, I'm not the match for trees that my subjects are. Anyway, at this angle, I notice how tall she is. Much taller than Madonna or Miss E.J. In fact, she's only about two paws shorter than Herakles. Like an Amazon or something. She's rather pretty for a Human Female, I think. Her fur is dark, unlike either of my female subjects.

What can I say? Everyone wants to be light-furred. We have a lot of fun.

The Amazon punches Asimov and he goes flying through a tree.

Yes, _through_ a tree. Huh, that's a lot farther than the other Amazons (I like the name; I'll go with it) have been able to send him. And he's not getting up.

Mailman, this is not good news. But Herakles is here. I'm not usually for the hitting of bitches, but this one deserves it.

Anyone, here comes Herakles running like Jack-Boy, and…

Ow.

Okay, sometimes when Herakles tries to hit someone who's as tough as him, this weird thing happens where they make a really loud noise (especially for my ears) and suddenly there a hard wind from each direction and everyone around us falls on their rumps. This is one of those times.

Both Herakles and the Amazon he just tried to hit are massaging their forepaws, glaring at each other like cats do when they're angry. Suddenly the Amazon grabs Herakles around the ruff and Herakles does the same to her. Then, Herakles does his flying thing, dragging her into the air. I tilt my head to watch. Herakles releases her and after a moment of getting her balance, she too starts to float. Pardon me for examining it so much, but I'm a nature documenatarian, you understand. They fly differently from one another. Whereas Herakles is more of a hummingbird or insect, able to just float there and zip around, this Amazon isn't as stable. She, like bigger birds, seems to be riding on the wind. So when she tries to swoop down at him, Herakles just floats out of the way and the Amazon comes tumbling down.

Reynard, holding his pointy stick thrower threateningly, barks to the Amazons, "Listen, we don't want to hurt you. We're just trying save a man who crashed here."

None of the Amazons seems to understand him, so I try repeating what they said, on the off-chance they speak Dog. They don't.

But then an older Amazon bitch comes out and speaks, in Human, but it's different. The Humans call them "accents." It's comparable to way greyhounds and pit bulls, for example, sound different, even though they both speak Dog.

"We are sorry. This place has not been visited by Man for many years. What business do you have?"

So the Amazon Herakles was fighting starts to speak Human, too, only with a much thicker "accent." "Mother, this one is strong, like Heracles. Perhaps Ares has sent us another conqueror."

Wait, how'd she know my name for Herakles?

The mature Amazon continued, "We are the Amazons…"

Huh, there's another coincidence.

"How did you find this place?" she continues.

Reynard answers, "We saw a plane go down here. We were only trying to help."

The other Amazons start speaking in a language that's not Human. Reynard seems to think it's something called "Greek."

The only time I've ever encountered something "Greek" was when Beau, Duchess, and Herakles ate something called "Greek salad." I tried it. It wasn't very good.

Anyway, apparently there was just a misunderstanding. So, everyone stops fighting. This is odd for me. I mean, I do like it when I'm not in danger of being attacked by a super-strong creature, but we Canines usually only stop fighting when one of us runs off whimpering, leaving the other Dog to mark his territory. It's the Rules of the Street.

Oh, wait, I marked my territory. Maybe _I_ saved the day.

- - -

So, right now, I'm wondering if it would be too much trouble for Reynard and Company to start giving me this "venison" stuff. 'Cause it kind of reminds me of deer meat.

My subjects and the Amazons are sitting around a fire, which is this toy that Humans have, which looks pretty but hurts your snout _like a woman_ if you try to smell it.

What? "Hurts like a woman"? Not so nice the other way around, huh?

Anyway, Jack-Boy is really interested in the reproduction of the Amazons, because there are only bitches here. He is answered by the Alpha Female (because there's no Alpha Male obviously; what a waste), who calls herself Hippolyta, which sounds to me and Triton like the names of those ugly pond-cows I met when Reynard took us to someplace called "Congo." Apparently, her daughter, named Diana, the Amazon Herakles fought, was born out of a lump of dirt.

Not that I'm judging. We Canines love digging in the dirt, so if it didn't mean there wouldn't be copulating, it's a form of procreation that I could get behind.

Though, it turns out that the Amazons _do_ copulate. With each other. This gets Jack-Boy as jumpy as a… well, jackrabbit. Appropriately. While Reynard, Asimov, and Miss E.J. take it in stride, A.C. looks a little uncomfortable and Herakles' skin darkens, especially as he tries to hide glances at Diana, who's sitting beside him.

This worries me, for Miss E.J.'s sake. Herakles is sitting between her and Bellatrix (who I wanted to name Artemis from Aegean mythology, but it turns out one of the Amazons is named Artemis, which makes me think they're fans of Aegean mythology, too; I believe "Bellatrix" is quite appropriate, mixing the Latinate "bella" meaning beautiful as well as "bella-trix" meaning "female warrior"; apparently the name also appears in some Human book about a furry pot-maker and his trinkets; my subjects are all too embarrassed to admit to one another if they've read the book; I would be too; it sounds dull). Anyway, Herakles' body language seems to indicate that he wishes to mate with Bellatrix. And she's emitting what may be pheromones. I have doubts she's Human. She's somewhat like Herakles, but her scent's different. I find it odd that so many species look like Humans while relative few (the lucky ones) look like Canines. But she's also staring at the injured Human who I think is another "visitor" to the Amazon island. I've named him "Beretta," which is the name of a great Human warrior; I also happen to think it sounds rather masculine. Given his current state of pain, I'd say he got the same welcome as us. Poor thing. Human are much less medically advanced than Canines. Humans still prefer to clothe their wounds instead of licking them. Canines have never felt the need for clothing, and that extends to the treatment of our wounds.

Of course, apparently the Amazons have something called a "Purple Ray," which I guess is another Human medical "advancement." I already know it to be a crock because of the name. "Purple" is a "colors." "Colorses" are a number of hallucinations that Humans have resulting from their inferior sight. Eventually they'll learn the healing properties of the tongue.

While Herakles seems interested in Bellatrix, and Bellatrix in Baretta, Baretta seems interested in the air in front of his eyes. I think it's a result of the "injection" Reynard gave him for the pain. Reynard likes his pointy objects. "Injections" are another Human medical fallacy. I believe it's a conspiracy by "The Vet," an evil subculture of Humans interested mainly in the torture and castration of Canines, among other animals. They use "injections"—pointy tools—to put small doses of poison into animals' body. They've tricked Humans into subjecting themselves to the same treatment, only by "The Doctor," a branch of The Vet I can only assume. I've tried numerous times to bring this conspiracy to light, but of course I'm against a large, corrupt bureaucracy whose sole purpose to obscure the truth.

To help Beretta out of his trance, I put my head on his stifle, and lick his forepaw. He looks down at me, still looking a bit post-nap, but he smiles and rubs my head. Now before you even accuse me of ulterior motives, I have a very unselfish reason for…

_Damn_, he's good.

But my mission's accomplished as Bellatrix, too, begins to rub my head. She's not near as good. She rubs too hard and has long claws (like a Cat), but it's a worthy sacrifice as they start to smile at each other. It's one of those things that Humans do instead of sniffing each others' rumps. How they learn each others' musks with such weak olfaction eludes me. I chance a look at Herakles, who while being very unperceptive in his own courting life, is none too slow about others' mutual attraction. He glances away, trying to hide his sorrow. Miss E.J., who suffers from the same malady, puts her paw on his stifle, and whispers, "You know, Bart hasn't made a lewd comment to me since we arrived. I think it's a good thing he's surrounded by so many pretty girls."

Herakles laughs, leans over, and replies, "I don't think it's a good thing for Ollie, though. Dinah looks like she wants to filet him alive." He even puts his own paw on top of Miss E.J.'s. I'd say that's Mission Accomplished.

The two of them are right and I feel bad for Reynard. He's tried all night to look in a safe direction. Unfortunately, apparently all of the Amazons here are extremely attractive, so he's taken a very powerful interest in Sue-Joad, Bellatrix's mother and the Alpha Female. I guess she's the safest one to talk to around one's mate. I bet Madonna is glad that Sue-Joad isn't the type of bitch it'd be appropriate for me to name Missus Robinson, if you catch my drift.

The fire's warm, so I figure it's about time to drift off to Beretta petting my head…

- - -

The Amazons are going to have a big dog fight to decide which of them will be taking Beretta back home. The way none of them want to leave, it's almost as if the pack of them is afraid that there's an electric fence surrounding the island.

I was there, moseying around, when Sue-Joad and I caught Bellatrix looking at what appeared to be a swimsuit much like the type Miss E.J. wears. Apparently that meant Bellatrix was thinking about being the one to take Beretta back, which I guess is partially my fault. I'm a meddler. Sue-Joad didn't seem happy about her intentions. I wanted to voice my opinion that sometimes puppies have to leave the litter, but as previously established, the Amazons don't speak Dog.

Anyhow, Reynard isn't letting us stay to watch the fight. We've got some important mission to go on. The way he talks about it, you'd think he found a plot to rid the world of cats. Look, I have nothing against kittens, who I find to be cuddly and affable, but they somehow grow up to be demonic.

So, after picking a particularly good tree to mark as my own, I relieve myself on it and return to the Moving House, where my Yummy Ball is waiting.

- - -

Lex Luthor stormed into the laboratories two stories below the LexCorp building. "What the hell happened to my $3 billion prototype?"

One brave researcher came to him. "At around 1500 hours yesterday, it was struck in midair by a Boeing F-15E above the Aegean Sea. It was only 230 miles from the rendezvous point in Istanbul."

"Then why aren't we out chasing it?"

"Sir, the drone did what it was supposed to. The outer coating polymer warped direct light, making it visually undetectable. Its shape and electromagnetic aura made it undetectable by radar. And we even used an ultrahigh frequency tracker to mask it from all conventional aeronautical scanners. Unfortunately the scanner appears to have been destroyed in the crash. The drone's practically unlocatable!"

Lex, clearly unhappy, grabbed a computer printout. "It says here that the tracking device didn't go offline until two minutes _after_ the jet's engines malfunctioned."

Another scientist came up wearing an audio headset. "Sir, we're tapped into the US Army radio frequency. It appears that the F-15 the drone collided with is experiencing similar malfunctions: engine fairly following much later by transmission malfunction. It think wherever they landed might be distorting the signal."

"They landed over _water_. What could cause transmission silence in the water?" Lex inquired, his anger dissipating as his curiosity grew.

"The Bermuda Triangle experiences such an effect. But that's caused by the high radio traffic from Miami as well as the Gulf Stream. The Aegean Sea has neither the underwater current nor the high-volume radio traffic to cause such an effect. Frankly, sir, it's like it's magic."

Until the last comment, Lex stared passively. "It's not magic," he seethed, "there's something there. Get my jet back. The experiment was a success. Once we remove the tracking device, we've got ourselves a disappearing jet."

With this, he promptly exited the lab to meet with his private tailor. He had an important mission to go on.

* * *

(Sonriso) - Oh, Chloe, my dear, don't beat yourself up. You're just as pretty as those overgrown Amazons.

Director's Commentary: So, sorry this took like months to finish. I have a lot on my plate.

Created Wednesday, March 28, 2007. Finished Monday, January 21, 2008.


End file.
